PeaceKeeper
by FaerietaleTiffany
Summary: Taking place shortly after the events in Avengers. Lily Akerson, is "awoken" by the world traumatizing event and discovers she has a powerful gift, one that gets her in more trouble than she realizes. Social outcast turn "PeaceKeeper", she's welcome into the newly formed team; a heart gentle enough to calm a monster, warm enough to love a god of ice, & an ancient power deep inside.
1. Chapter 1

Part 1.

Loud buzzing rang in her ears. The hot pavement cut her hands as she struggled to push herself up. Dizzy and winded, a burning pain shot through her side. She collapsed again and rolled onto her back, gasping in pain. She looked at her hand, it was dipping with blood. Panic and realization washed over. The buzzing persisted, she could only feel the vibrations from the ground, between the shots of pain. She held her breathe, trying to control the pain, only to gasp, again winded.

A face appeared above her, beaten and bloody, she recognized Steve, but she couldn't find the words. Blasting from the sky to land a few feet away was Stark, mask drawn back expose his flustered, shocked expression. They started yelled at each other, but the buzzing continued. Help me. She thought, screaming it in her mind. Please, help me. 

* * *

Worlds away, an old book fell to the floor of a prisoner's cell in the dungeons of Asgard. The prisoner grasped the sides of his head and doubled over in a foreign pain. He fell from his chair, a new burning pain gripped his side. Just as quickly as it came, it was gone. A voice called out in his mind, a plea that enraged him. Please, help me. He knelt to get his balance, his eyes darted around the small room as he gathered his senses. He reached out across the void in his mind, focusing on the origin of the cry. He put all his energy into his efforts, an image started to take shape. A woman, laying on a city street, a bridge, water on either side. A man in blue and a man in red standing over her as a pool of crimson blood pooled around her. He snapped out of the vision. Half winded, rocked back and forth as the vision settled in to reality. He jumped up, raging, and punch a deep crater into the wall.

A guard was quickly at the cell to investigate the ruckus. Still facing the wall steadying his breath, "I need to speak to the queen." he said to the guard.  
"Prisoners do not make requests of the royal family.-" the guard attempted.  
"A son requests a visit with his mother. Under Asgardian law, no prisoner may be kept from that right!" The guard relinquished, and stepped away. Again, a phantom pain shot through his side, but instead of succumbing to the pain he grabbed the chair and threw it across the cell, where it broke and smashed into the other wall. He collapsed to the ground, his back against the wall, again gripping the sides of his head.

A delicate hand picked up the discarded book, righted the pages and set it down on the table. Another chair manifested itself, the queen gracefully sat down and looked with sadness at her son.

She said to him, "now you know part of what I feel."

"…I saw her…" was all he could muster.

* * *

She blacked out before she reached the hospital bed, the sergeants set to work immediately. Her left side had 3rd degree burns, her lung was collapsed and multiple ribs where broken. Tubes and wires draped around her, blood matted her hair; the nurse cringed as she worked the mess into a surgical cap.

"Heroes, they're calling them," commented one doctor sarcastically in the prep room as he sterilized his hands.

"Apparently they were fighting amongst themselves, she tried to stop them and got caught up in the action." remarked the other.

"This one can't be with SHIELD, they never let their people in a common hospital, have you ever seen her before?"  
"No. But I don't think she was an average civilian either, if she's hanging around this crowd."

Clicking along the hospital hallway in suite and heals, Pepper Potts balanced 6 cups of coffee effortlessly on a tray. She gently nudged the door open to a private waiting room, inside the small room were crammed Earth's Mightiest Heroes, or biggest fools, depending who was asking. Pepper brought a charm to the awkward silence with her greeting smile, she swept across the room and distributed the coffee.

"Espresso, Natasha. Clint, Americano. Bruce, decaf." Her smile diminished when she came to Steve and Tony, positioned on opposite sides of the room like a pair of school yard bullies. "Tea." she said addressing Steve, "Black." she said to Tony, very short, and thrusted the coffee in front of his face. He jumped, jagged from a deep thought. He took it wordlessly, a real first for him. Pepper settled herself next to Bruce and a small end table, scattered on it were various health and gossip magazines. She happened to glance the cover of one, a destroyed New York back ground with the title "Are We Really Safe?" She sighed to herself, and placed the empty cup holder on top of the magazine.

A shill knocked came to the door, everyone jumped a little, the young nurse popped her head in and cleared her throat. "They're starting now, I'll be keeping you updated as operation progresses." She quickly closed the door. Bruce swirled his drink, and quickly drank a few gulps. Steve rested his elbows on his knees, trying to preoccupy himself with the steam coming up from his tea. His own reflection looked up at him, bandaged and swollen.

Natasha and Clint were accustomed to silence, Natasha welcomed it but she could tell Clint was uneasy.

* * *

"I always knew my sons would find their heartsongs, but never did I predict both would be from midgard,"  
The queen spoke solemnly.  
"Heartsong?" the word was strange and silly to him.  
"It's spoken of among womenfolk; it's a connection, of both mind and body that transcends time and space. Two people are so aligned by fate that they are literally each other's half. You feel one another's emotions and hear one another's voice, not matter what the distance. Humans call it love."

He let out a snickering laugh; part disbelief, part injured ego. She looked on at him, pained for him. His disbelief faded.  
"What did you see?" she asked, quietly. He told her, reciting the details was harder than he thought. It physically hurt him to think about her in pain again. To his confusion, the words, which always gave themselves over to him, came out jumbled or caught in his throat. His hands moved on their own as he spoke.

In a single movement, she glided off the chair and knelt before him. She grabbed his hands in hers and pulled from the wall into a proper sitting position.

Eons ago, they would sit like this, on the floor face to face holding hands.  
"Close your eyes and allow your mind to expand, let it flow out around you. Straighten your back… good." the young dark haired boy, eyes tightly closed slowly relaxed. On a table, a few feet away, a tea set began to levitate. Freya saw it from the corner of the eye, as she watched it began to sway in a steady rhythm, then circle around; tea pot, cups and spoons in a slow turning orbit. Suddenly they leap to life as an invisible juggler tosses them effortlessly into the air. She laughed at the amusing sight and congratulated his growing skills in tricks.

The would be king now sat like a child before his only mother once again. He looked back and forth from her hands to her face, the same face that remained the one constant in his life. "What?" he asked after some silence. She sighed. "Your powers are blocked here, you know this. Outside these walls, you would be more connected to her." She paused before continuing. "What you have done to midgard, is unforgivable. " it was his turn to sigh, gaining irritability by the regurgitation of his sentencing. "You've taken so many lives in your actions, lovers who will never again be together in this life. By right, I should let you go on feeling her last pain. But… your pain is also my pain." She paused, he looked at her confused. "I've seen her in the stars, her soul is older than midgard, she has danced through its ages coming out of it confused and lost, until you found her. The fates also have their tricks."

"She was there." He blurted out. Freya stopped and tilted her head. "In the Abyss. When I fell from the bifrost, I saw worlds die and be reborn, every stage of life running in forward and reverse. Amidst the chaos, I saw her. Looking out from the dust clouds right at me. She knew me. When I saw here again, she had no idea who I was until…"

"The Deus'deum." she nodded, "asleep until awakened…"

"They called her peace keeper, fighting isn't a part of her. A simple touch and everything that mattered melts meaningless. She's just…

* * *

"...innocent, Tony! You attacked an innocent woman! Possibly the last true innocence on this planet!" Pepper stated, matter of fact. Silence had finally broken in the group after a solid hour. Coffees were gone or disregarded and questions were finally being asked.

"She got stuck in the cross fire." he said in a poor attempt at defending himself.

"What right do you have for fighting in broad day light? In the middle of the bridge?" Chimed in Natasha.

"We were in the middle of training, her eyes went all white and glowy like when… rained aliens. We all freaked and followed her to you guys destroying the bridge!" Clint threw his hands wildly, pointing between Tony and Steve, who had remained transfixed on his untouched tea. "I was finally getting somewhere with teaching her self-defense. You have any idea how hard it is to teach a telepathic pacifist how to fight? I had to make her swear to stop putting me under spell. Every five minutes, I was forgetting why we were fighting to begin with!"

"A turf argument." Steve finally spoke up. Everyone turned, silent. Tony glared at him. "Tony and I have disagreements how operations should be handled moving forward of what happened in New York. It was a dispute in … who's the bigger man…"

"Finishing what you started on the Heli-carrier." Natasha concluded. Clint shot a confused look, but Nat shook him off. The way she did whenever a bad memory she didn't want to bring up came up anyway.

Bruce looked on in disbelief at Steve before turning to Tony, for the first time. Tony did a double take, his own expression softened from defense to defeat. "How could you?" was all Bruce said. After a second, Bruce stood up and walked out. Clint and Natasha also took their leave. Half a moment later, Pepper's cell phone went off, almost as on que, she also left. Tony and Steve looked at each other, lowered their heads in shame. Steve remarked to himself, this is was probably the first time in the billionaire's life, he had been really defeated.

* * *

Once outside, Pepper turned off her phone and quietly thanked Natasha, who was slipper her own phone back in her pocket. "Bruce was going to the courtyard… I'll keep an eye on him." She took her leave. A small bench was outside the waiting room, Pepper and Clint settled themselves on it. Pepper winced as she pried off one of her heals and rubbed her ankle. Clint chuckled.

"How do you women wear those things? "  
"All for show. The more painful it looks, the more men will respect you. Or so the lesson I've learned in business."

"Maybe you should consider a new employer." It was Pepper's turn to chuckle and gave a sad nod.

Natasha found Bruce leaning against a pillar that lead to a small garden patio and fountain. Opening the glass door to the outside air felt like she was popping a balloon, and became very aware of how pressurized the entire building felt. Fresh air came in from the open ceiling, the garden was lined with glass doors going to different wings of the hospital. The sun was near setting, the red sky danced across the fountain water.

Bruce heard the door and half turned to see her, his hands stayed tucked in his pockets in what she guessed was tightly balled fists.

"What was it like for you?" he asked her. "When she touched you for the first time."

Natasha reflected. "It was after we won. She was in the crowd, helping people. When she saw us take Loki into the street she ran over to us, at full speed. I was on the com with the rest of SHIELD, so I lagged behind. I saw her fly past me so I grabbed her, immediately every memory of my life flashed in front of me and I thought she must have saw it too, she looked at me with understanding I only get from Barton. In that instant, I felt… at peace. She collapsed into a sobbing messing right after."

"After all that I… couldn't come back. The other guy… liked it too much. Tony was trying to talk it down, I guess, but only crushed a few more cars, scaring more people… you saw the photos."

"I left her there…" she confessed, it hurt her to say it, "I wanted to hold her, to cry with her, but I knew I had to leave."

"The other guy found her, after most of SHIELD left. Her eyes… they glowed white; she confused him. When he touched her, I came back." The memory made him smile.

"She was at the sendoff too. I saw her again in the crowd, even after most of the people left. I touched her shoulder and the same feeling happened all over again. So I brought her to SHEILD."

"And SHEILD left her with us. And this is what we've done with her…"

* * *

She saw him from across the crowd. Chaos continued around the them, conversations and congratulations but silence passed between them as their eyes locked. She took a step closer, he shook his head. His expression torn between stern and fear. She couldn't hear any of the noise around her, nothing else mattered, she wondered if this is how people she touches feel; nothing matters, but this is nothing close to peaceful. She couldn't put together a proper thought; her mind ripped to shreds over the gravitation of what he's done and the undeniable force pulling them together.

Without saying a word, she heard his voice in her mind, louder than anything else as if he's standing behind her talking into her ear. "No, stay… please…I'll come back for you. I promise." Her throat started to burn; she wanted to believe him. Her chest started to cave in on itself and she struggled for a breath. Visions from the past few nights passed before her eyes. From his pained expression, he sees the same. The unveiling, the exposure, and the passion. For once in her life, the emptiness inside was gone and she knew peace.

His captors shoved his shoulder and led him to the platform. Their eyes broke as did her silence, she yelled his name and rushed into the crowd. His gaze was set straight ahead. Before she could make any distance, a bright light and thunderclap deafened the crowd. She flinched and raised her arms. She regained herself a second later but they're gone. He's gone. The crowd cheered, celebrated, and slowly started to disperse. Her senses came back slowly, one at a time, as she learned them all over again.

Sound came first, as the crowd's uproar started to quiet. She reran his voice again and again in her head, afraid he will fade away like a dream in the morning. She became aware of her own noise, a staggered heavy breathing.

"Hey!" Someone put a hand on her shoulder, memories flash before her; a red room, ballet studio, a life on the run. She's seen these before, turned and meets eyes with Natasha, she looked confused but calm. "Come with me. There's some people I think you could help."

Natasha led her to Clint who's waited by a car, "Who's this?" he asked.  
"We need to take her in." She states, in a dream like manner.

"What?" he laughed, "Are you kidding? Why? She's just a kid."

"I'm 25." she finally spoke up, surprised at her own will. Her eyes burn in the sunlight and it's hard to look at anything longer than a few seconds. Clint looked from her to Natasha, she gave him a nod.

"Well, if Nat trusts you, so do I. I'm Agent Barton." he extends his hand, gingerly she takes it. Memories again flash before her eyes, a farm house, a family, a precious secret. She feels a warmth radiating from her chest. She smiles, aside from the emptiness taking over her, she still feels some glow of hope. Hope. It tasted so foreign to her, she had forgotten it completely. She opens her eyes to meet his confused and scared look.

"My name is Lily, Lily Akerson. I have one hell of a story to tell."


	2. Chapter 2

[Synopses: Everyone has an origin story; just that one day that's different from all the rest and you realize your everyday routine is about to be rudely dismissed...]

"Lily! Where are you been? You had two appointments walk out already!" Lily shook off her rain coat as she stumbled into the salon. An old lady frowned at her as she gracelessly tripped over her own feet.

"Sorry, the bus was tied up behind an accident on 53rd. I half ran the way here. God, I hate New York! Who would want to get a haircut in this weather anyway?" She blustered, suddenly remembered the old lady still frowning at her, she stuttered through an apology. Finally reaching her booth unscarred, from her own clumsiness and the old woman, she quickly fixed her own messy platinum blonde mop and set to her tasks.

"All set, Hank, as devilish as ever." the old man stood wobbly from Anne's chair, whispered something in Anne's ear. She laughed her polite little laugh. Hank helped the old woman up from her chair and took a few moments to bundle up against the cold April rain.  
The rest of the day progressed slowly from the rain, though the salon stayed steady, despite Lily's prediction. The end of the day finally came, lights from neighboring shops reflected off the dark street, cars still zoomed in streaks of light. The tiny salon's light reached out into the evening's darkness like a lantern.

Anne and Lily were closing up shop, their radio was turned up and they took turns with the broom turn microphone as Starship played "Nothing's going to stop us now!" The two danced around the store folding towels and refilling conditioners. Lily stopped at the register and hit the till to close it out. She looked up to the door, outside a man was standing staring straight at her; he had a solemn wrinkled face, dark skinned, and long dark hair braided over his shoulders. She yelped and jumped back, but as soon as she blinked he was gone.

"Ahh!" Anne echoed, dropping the broom, "Jesus, Lil. Don't do that!"  
"Did you see him?" Lily's head jerked from Anne behind her to where the man had been.

"What? Probably just some guy wondering the streets."  
"I don't think so… he looked, like…an Indian?" she laughed nervously, but the hairs on her arms and back of her neck stood on edge.  
"Like.…Indian as in Cowboys and Indians?...in New York …Okay, well, looks like we're done here." Anne hurriedly replaced the broom and stowed away the radio. Lily knew she sounded crazy, but she also knew what she saw. She collected herself and counted the money, looking up every so often at the door.

The rain was still persisting as Lily and Anne locked up the door behind them. Lily took extra caution to look around them before snapping the final lock.

The bus ride home was uneventful, but Lily couldn't shake the feeling she was being watched. From the bus stop, she jogged up to her apartment building. Someone was yelling in the hallway again, and a trash bag was over turned a few doors down from hers. When her top lock slid closed, she finally let out an easy breath.

"You're losing it, Lil." she said to herself. She forgot to grab the mail on her way up, but she dismissed it for later. She kicked off her shoes and made for the kitchen. Her laptop laid open on the counter where she left it, she flicked a key and it dinged to life with numerous email alerts.

Hold her sandwich between her teeth she filtered through her messages. A few from her mother back in Wisconsin, junk advertisements, and a reply to from Juilliard Dancing School. She almost chocked on her sandwich, and she quickly read through the letter out loud.

"Ms. Akerson, thank you for you audition last Tuesday, you show great determination… Blah blah blah, we regret to inform you your application at this time has been …" she slumped further over the counter and stared at the word "denied."

She closed the laptop with a slap. With a mood that matched the sky, she settled on her bed next to a cat who barely acknowledged her existence. She ripped off a bite of meat and offered it to the cat, the cat sniffed sleepily than chomped on the morsel. Lily scratch the cat's head affectionately.

"3 schools, 3 rejections, Romeo… maybe it's time we go home." The cat purred back, from the kitchen her cell phone started to chirp.

"Hey, mom."  
"Lily, are you okay?" her mother sounded relieved from just a hello.  
"Yea, well…" she said taken aback by the urgency from her, "Great timing, as usual, I got rejected again."  
"Oh honey, I'm so sorry. You worked so hard on this." she flopped down on her bed again and resumed petting Romeo, who was sniffing for more sandwich. "Aside that… is everything else okay?" the repeated question made her uneasy all over again, she glanced at the door locks. "I'm thinking about coming home. There's nothing for me here, I look too young and not good enough to make it."

"Lilypad, that is not a time for your self pity. Come home, some strange things have been happening around here. I've been having my bad feeling again, and before you start, it's not just me. Your grandfather is feeling it too."  
"Oh, yes, that's very serious."

"Lily Grace, honestly!"  
"Sorry, sorry, but, mom" she signed, looking at her closed laptop, "no, you're right, things are at a dead end here. I will come home. It'll take me some time to save for the move, I'll have to sell most of my stuff again… I'll figure it out- Now, I know what you're going to say and I'm not taking your money, this was my crazy idea, I'll get myself out of it."  
"Okay, sweetie… It's late, you'll call me tomorrow, won't you."  
"Sure, I will… and hey mom, has… grandpa been hanging around the reservation again?"  
"Actually, yes, the old man Gunther went on some trip last week and appointed Dad a council position."  
"Gunther has to be at least 100 years old, how is he even alive? And a council member? But grandpa's not even American." she laughed at the absurdity.  
"No, but he's a very proud Irishman, he feels he does the most good hanging around them." The image of the man from the salon brought a fresh chill down her spine. The Indians gave her the creeps when she was a kid, her grandfather would take her to the reservation for celebrations, thou she never remembered much but dancing in awkward circles and loud drums. Her grandfather was more into native American history than their own history in Ireland, in a way she always felt betrayed a little by that.  
"Why you ask, Lily?"  
"oh, it's nothing… I'll talk to you tomorrow, Mom. Love you."  
"Love you too, sweetie. Goodnight."

In Wisconsin, Beth Akerson clicked off her phone and looked at the old man across the table from her. Harold Molgain's once red hair was bleached white from age, and he looked at his daughter over the rim of his bifocal glasses.  
"She'll come home. She sounded different, you think Gunther contacted her?"  
The old man shrugged, "I told the chief, all he had to do was call her, why the cloak and dagger nonsense, I have no idea. All he said was 'old way is best way'. She will awaken soon. Something terrible is about to happen, Bethy, bring our flock home."  
"Jack is in Germany, he already told me no. Think's we're a bunch of superstitious loons."

"For Jack's sake, I hope he's right."  
"Are you certain it's in her?"

"Gunther saw it in her, but not Jack. She radiates," he held out his hands in front of him as he tried, again, for the countless time, to explain to his daughter what could not be explained in simple terms. "She's never been in a fight, never a broken bone, always upset about wars and conflicts, remember when she was 10 she was going to run away from home and join the Peace Corp." They both laughed at the memories.  
"Yea, and Gunther found her at the train station."  
A pause passed between them.  
"When the world quakes, the Keepers will wake." he recited. Before Beth could protest her father, the same over whelming dread filled her again, just as when she first called Lily. They sat together, each in silent prayer.

In a messy one room apartment in the ghettos of New York city, the young woman snuggled with her over feed cat. Outside, the rain pattered on against the fire escape. It pooled and spilled over the ledges landing with a splash on the tan leather coat and dark grey braids of the old Indian Chief watching over her. Singing a quiet prayer song, his eyes glowing white.


End file.
